Page 3 of Back in the Saddle

Single.

One.

His ass was resting on the fender of my black convertible Mini, his long legs stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed, his arms were also crossed on his chest.

He’d been there a while.

Waiting for me.

Okay, one could say, until I met Eric, I hadn’t been into older guys.

And he wasn’t older,as such.

It was just that he belonged to the first generation of the Hot Bunch guys of NI&S (the younger generation, Raye had dubbed the Hottie Squad so we could tell them apart, something that was necessary due to their overall concentrated level of hotness, which was so high, it was immeasurable, so we had to pry them apart somehow).

The first generation were all married (except Eric) and had wives and children (except Eric).

But the minute I clapped eyes on him, I was into him.

That was because he was mega hot.

It was also about other things, which I wasn’t in the place to contemplate fully at that moment, seeing as it was now closer to two in the morning, and he had no reason to be leaning against my car at that time—or ever.

Yet there he was.

I restarted walking toward him, and when I arrived, I quipped, “Of all the gin joints.”

“I’m not finding anything funny, Jessie,” he replied.

Hmm.

One could say we hadn’t had very many deep conversations (as in…none).

But I’d been around him somewhat frequently, seeing as Raye, one of my three besties, was not only hooked up, but shacked up with Cap. This meant they often came to The Surf Club to have lunch or grab a cup of joe. And The Surf Club was where Raye, my other two besties, Harlow and Luna, and I worked.

Obviously I’d heard his voice, which was normally deep and mellow, but it could get smooth, rich and warm as fudge when he said things like, “Thank you,” after I put one of Lucia’s (our chef) divine creations in front of him.

Now, it was still deep, though not at all mellow or smooth. Instead, rough and edgy.

In other words…pissed.

“Eric—”

He cut me off. “Have you lost your fuckin’ mind?”

“No, I?—”

“Wrong,” he bit off. “You have. You’ve lost your fuckin’ mind.”

Now, hang on a second.

This guy worked with my friend’s boyfriend.

No, wait.

Cap was my friend too, so take that degree of separation out, he worked with my friend.

I waited on him a couple of times (right, that was a lie, I’d waited on him multiple times).

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